


The Snap Of A Bone

by soncnica



Series: kosti!verse [5]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abused Jensen, Abusive Parents, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Child Abuse, Gen, Implied non-con drug use, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Medicinal Drug Use, Older Jared, Physical Abuse, Psychologist Jared, Running Away, Verbal Abuse, Vomiting, Younger Jensen, not really a summer camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soncnica/pseuds/soncnica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared hasn't been the psychologist at Camp Gamble long. He always wanted to work with kids - troubled kids - but now it looks like he might be in over his head. Jensen is 16, Jared is 26</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Snap Of A Bone

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I seriously only own the grammar/spelling mistakes. Everything else is NOT MINE! ALL IS FICTION.
> 
> PLEASE READ: After a comment I received on a story in this verse, I remembered that I forgot to put an EXTRA WARNING on this verse, so here it is:
> 
> I, and everyone in the story, are very much aware that what needs to be done in cases like these is call the proper authorities and report the parents.  
> But that being said, as you may have noticed I'm writing this from Jared's and Jensen's POV and no one else's in the story. And as you also may have noticed I'm writing this at snail pace, as in, I'm writing without any time skips or anything like that. So ... you see where I'm going with this!? I can't say what someone else in the story is doing or what will happen next from someone else's perspective. I think everyone reading this will just have to trust me.  
> Thank you! And please if you aren't okay with any of this, please stop reading as I don't want to hurt anyone. That is not the intent of this story.  
> Thank you!

 

He stumbles once, twice, three times but manages to catch himself with his hands grabbing weakly at a tree or a rock that are scattered alongside the path. When he stumbles for the forth time, the soles of his feet hurtin' whenever he puts pressure on them, he falls down on his knees. Gracelessly, with a crunch of needles when his boney knees hit them. His hands fall to the ground, supporting his weight and he pulls his fingers into a loose fist, grabbing hold of dead leaves. It's like holding a soft hand, a soft hand he had never held in his entire life. He hates kneeling. His mother often makes him kneel in the corner when he's especially bad. When _she_ says he is especially bad. The pain in his knees after being on them for hours and the pull on his shoulders after having his arms behind his back ... but he never cries. Never gives his parents that satisfaction.

He starts puking all that is in his stomach down on the path, between his hands. The pain in his knees, the pain in his throat ... but he's not at home, he's in a camp his brother mysteriously got him into, on a path trying to run away. Trying to run away and get himself a life.

He pukes some more. Maybe he's not meant to have a life.

-:-

He's shaking, his elbows twitching and trying to buckle. The vomit between his hands is nasty, tastes sour in his mouth and smells even worse but he can't make himself stop, because maybe if he pukes everything out, makes himself puke until he'll start puking blood, then maybe he'll get rid of all the medicine he'd been forced to shove down his throat and is now moving around in his system and then maybe he'll be able to show people who he really is.

Who he really is and not who his parents created. Who the society created. He's not the son of a devil, well not the real devil anyways, he hasn't decided what his father is really, and he's not a worthless piece of shit who uses up air when he isn't supposed to, he isn't a moron or an idiot or a lowlife scum that a whore spewed out ... although he does think his mother is a whore.

He isn't what people say he is.

But...

... he _is_ because he just feels so numb all the time, feels like he's floating in space between getting beaten and yelled at, feels like his brain is always stuck in some limbo between off and on and he wants to wake up. Wake up.

Just wake up.

-:-

He pushes a shaky finger down his throat and nudges something there, because before he can remove his finger, warm bile starts running out of his mouth. His eyes are wide open and watering, tears and snot running down his face. He's trying to see if little pills will start falling out of his mouth.

They don't and isn't that just another thing to be disappointed about.

-:-

Maybe, maybe he needs to do something else. Something more. Maybe he needs to get a knife again; doesn't matter what kind as long as it's sharp and cut, cut real deep and bleed the pills out. Maybe, maybe push his fingers in the open wound and dig around for the pills and pull them out.

Maybe that will work better than puking his guts out.

But the look on Jared's face, when he caught him with that knife.

Jared.

He scrambles to his feet, saliva and strings of snot, tears and puke mixing with sweat still running down his face, and stumble-walks a few more feet to a brown wooden door and collapses against it.

He'd been that close to the shrink's cabin? But ... but wasn't he trying to run away? Find freedom?

He can't think anymore. He feels weak. He feels himself fading. He feels himself go cold and he wonders if this is how death feels. Is this how death feels? He's going to have to ask Jared about that.

-:-

He's leaning on the door, the sight before him all darkness interrupted by the silver moonlight. There's thousands of trees all around him, concealing a few cabins and a lake, where Annie lost the top of her bathing suit, to the delight of some boys. He snickers at the thought of her scream when she realized her boobs were naked.

Only if life could always be that fun.

-:-

He bangs the back of his head on the door; he has no strength to do anything else. His fingers are twitching where they're lying on the wooden porch, his legs are extended before him and his stomach aches like someone poured acid down his throat. He's trembling and his chest feels too tight.

He thinks back the day of Annie going naked on them and wonders if one day a girl who will love him will go naked just for him. He's sixteen, his hormones should be going crazy on him, but what with all the shit he's forced to take, he just feels nothing. He only laughed at her, because everyone else did, but instead of feeling something in his pants, he felt nothing.

He just wants to feel something.

He bangs his head on the door again; stronger now.

And apparently that makes enough noise to wake Jared up, because the next thing he knows is that the solid mass behind his back is moving inward fast and then he's falling through warm, bright air to land on his back.

"What the...?"

Jared's voice is part total shock and part fear; that much he can tell.

He blinks and that is not a tear that just rolled down his cheek.

It's not.

-:-

"Jensen?"

He blinks again, and again that is not a tear that just slid down his cheek.

It's not.

-:-

He can't move, not really, all he can do is lay there, arms laying limp by his sides, his legs unmoving, his chest hurting like he'd just ran a few miles. His mouth feels like something is rotting in there, his throat burns and hurts, but ... he feels good.

Feels safe, laying here on the floor. Feels like nothing and no one can touch him. Even if Jared's crouching by his side, his face hovering above him, his warm fingers pressed to his neck probably checking for a pulse.

He blinks away tears that aren't tears, when he whispers: "H-hhhelp me..."

"Jensen?"

"P-please, hhh-elp me."

He curls into a ball next to Jared's knees, right there on the wooden floor, the guy's hand stuck beneath his head as a pillow and whispers: "M...make it s...s...stop." before closing his eyes and falling into darkness.

He can't deal with the world anymore. He can't feel this safety whenever he's close to Jared and then feel the hurt when he's away. He can't deal with his life anymore.

Can't deal with the constant fear of when this camp will be over, he will have to return to his parents.

The darkness has always been so soothing.

**The End (but more to come)**


End file.
